Fais de Beaux Rêves
by The Unsolvable Riddle
Summary: Guardian Angels are the voices we hear on our darkest nights. But what if that voice is one of a rival? (5th CHAPTER! Possbily HPxDM?)
1. Assassin

AN/Warnings: I haven't started a new HP fic in a while. Might as well do one now, yes? Start off the new year with some fun. I've been listening to way to much ABBA. It's not healthy. 

I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to the damn lucky J.K. Rowling and all of those other companies. There's already a advertisement for the 3rd movie at the movie theater I go to. 

Anyway, this will most likely end up as a Harry/Draco, angst and all. However, I'm debating on whether to make it downright slashy, or just an over-obsessive Harry. So if you don't like the idea of such a pairing, I suggest you go find something else. Or, you could be open minded and read it anyway. Flames will be used to keep my feet warm when it's cold. Reviewers will be loved forever, my precious…The title simply means "Sweet Dreams".

I hope you enjoy.

Fait de Beaux Rê ves [Sweet Dreams ] : Assassin

"Harry Potter?" Came a shout through the crowd of Hogsmeade. Harry turned, expecting it to be another fan, or perhaps just someone who recognized him. 

A gunshot rang out, only a few wizards recognized the deadly sound. A few screamed, others dropped to the ground. Most, however were curious about the sound that seemed simply like the crack of magic.

The bullet shot through the crowd with deadly aim, guided by magic. Harry stared straight at his assassin, before feeling something puncture the left side of his chest. 

He gasped, the pain coming seconds after. Coughing, he fell to his knees, clutching the wound with both hands. Blood flowed from both his chest and lips, and tears clouded his eyes. 

****

Pain. _Pain. _PAIN!

His mind was screaming for release, to either numb all of the pain, or just die. Tears fell from his eyes onto the cobblestone street, as people backed away from him. 

****

No, please, I don't want to die alone!

He stared at the street, watching his blood and tears merge together. Both were salty, and he couldn't taste the difference. 

Harry Potter never expected to die by a gun, a Muggle weapon. He always thought he would die by the Killing Curse, like his mother and father. He was dying alone.

His assassin smirked, tucking a piece of blonde hair being their ear. Pulling the black hood up over their head and dropping the gun, the assassin disappeared into the crowd.

The Lord would be pleased.

A final cry and fall of scarlet tears sealed Harry Potter's fate. His green eyes rolled back, and he saw nothing more. 

****

Harry Potter sat in an endless abyss of black. Sitting cross legged, he decided death wasn't so bad.

"I suppose there isn't a heaven then." He thought out loud, a bit disappointed. "I guess that means there's no hell either."

"Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Potter." Harry looked up, and saw the most familiar face - the one of Albus Dumbledore. 

"P-professor?" He stammered. What was even more spectacular were the huge white wings that seemed to come from his back. The old man nodded, smiling. 

"Mr. Potter, you are currently situated in Limbo. Where there is no pain, but no joy. No punishment, but no peace." 

"What? Why can't I go to heaven, then?" He realized he sounded rather childish, and closed his mouth. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Those who find themselves in Limbo are ones who died by the cheating of fate. You were not meant to die when you did, Mr. Potter. However, it seems someone had dealing with a much greater force. Do you remember how you died?"

Harry opened his mouth. Of course he knew! It was-

He paused, as a confused, anxious and frustrated look adorned his face. He pouted at the blackness, and closed his mouth. 

"Good, good. Would you like a gumdrop?" The bearded man offered some of the candy to Harry, who shrugged, taking one and popping it into his mouth. He chewed it thoughtfully, and then swallowed.

"If I may, Professor. Why are you here, and why do you have those wings?" Harry's curiosity was now back to the huge appendages that flapped slightly. 

"Ah. I am simply a guide in the mortal world. I died quite a long time ago." He smiled, as if it was a fond memory. "As for the wings, I would like to point out that you have some as well." 

Harry craned his neck, and for an instant, saw two white wings. However, they weren't as graceful as Dumbledore's, and very small. 

"They will become more regal with time, Harry. But now, to business. We must make up for lost time." Dumbledore opened a large, hardcover book that seemed to have come from nowhere. Along with the fact that it was floating in mid-air, Harry was now officially dumbfounded. 

Realizing he was still sitting, Harry stood up and peered over the front of the book. However, he wasn't any good at reading upside down. 

"So, Mr. Potter, we must correct such a horrible twist of unwanted fate. You must do a good lifetime of community service."

"What?!" Harry spluttered. Dumbledore peered up from half-moon glasses, and smiled. His fingers were still skillfully flipping pages, until he stopped in a certain section. Running his finger down the page, he seemed to be searching for something.

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Potter. Guardian Angel duty is simple stuff. Ah. Here is your client." He tapped the writing, and Harry circled the book, so it's writing was legible.

In a careful, swirling cursive, the book seemed to have names of people.

"Maback, John?" Harry asked, looking at his old Headmaster questioningly.

"Ah, horribly sorry, wrong name. Here. Malfoy, Draco."

Harry started to nod, before doing a double-take, and staring at Dumbledore as if he was a maniac. 

"With all due respect, Professor, Malfoy? Of all the people in the godforsaken-"

"Language please, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore chided, writing something in the book with a quill that came from nowhere. Harry inhaled sharply, and continued;

"Of all of the people in the world, why Draco Malfoy?" 

Dumbledore sighed, and continued writing.

"Mr. Malfoy is about to perform a rather ancient ceremony, one that alchemist, scientists, doctors and wizards alike have tried to find. It is a secret known only by the Malfoy family - the secret of eternal youth."

Harry stared at Dumbledore with "yeah, right." written across his face. Dumbledore didn't notice, and kept writing.

"It will take place on St. Valentine's day. I daresay someone who's about to look seventeen for the rest of his life deserves a Guardian Angel, no?" 

Harry was dumbfounded once again. He opened his mouth, but it soon clamped shut on it's own accord.

"Then again, so will you, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore laughed. "And you certainly don't need those glasses anymore." He plucked them right off of Harry's face, and they disappeared. "I also suggest you read this book for some extra information." He tossed a small leather-bound book, which Harry caught with ease. 

"La Livre de les Anges?" He asked mostly to himself, reading the title, which was embossed in gold. Opening it, he found it was written in English, much to his relief. 

"Mr. Potter, you died on April 1st, 1998 at 3:34 pm. Congratulations, you are now officially recognized as dead." Dumbledore shook his hand, and patted him on the head. 

"Uh…thanks, I guess." Harry still had the book in one hand, as Dumbledore closed the large book. It promptly vanished. 

"Draco Malfoy is currently staying at the Mansion for the remainder of the summer break. It is currently July 19th, 1998, just about noon. Whatever you do, Mr. Potter, do not touch him when he is awake. You may try talking to him. That book will give you more information. I must warn you - you are invisible to all mortals, Muggle or Magical. The only people who will be able to see you in the Waking Hours will be other 'Angels' as we call ourselves. I wish you all the best, Harry. If you need any help, just call." 

Harry yelped as the blackness around him gave way to a portal of blinding light. He dropped, and felt his stomach take a few seconds to catch up. 

After a week of being Draco Malfoy's shadow, Harry had concurred that Malfoy lived the most boring life - ever. 

There had been a few incidents of Harry accidentally walking into the bathroom with Malfoy as he was learning his way around. Luckily, his apparent dead-ness let him walk through walls and doors. Other than that, there was very little excitement. 

Draco Malfoy's daily routine is as follows:

Wake up, take a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast. Lounge around the house, read a book, go outside flying, walk around in the hedge maze, get lost (insert Harry's laughter), blast way back through hedges, eat lunch. Lounge around the house some more, feed the dogs (a golden retriever, a greyhound and a German shepherd), take another shower if slightly sweaty, read some more. Dinner.

Now, dinner was the only time of the day that got slightly interesting, but only once in a while. This was simply because the trio that was the Malfoy family sat down to eat. Together. 

However, tonight was another night of silence. Except for the clinking of silverware against dishes, and the occasional gulp or chew, it was excruciatingly boring. 

Lucius wasn't menacing at all, much unlike the Lucius Malfoy that Harry knew. Narcissa seemed innocent enough - perhaps a bit cold, but maybe that came with marrying a Malfoy. Harry wondered if it had been arranged.

Harry was floating in the air, once again sitting with his legs crossed. He was halfway through the book Dumbledore had given him, which was obviously some sort of code and conduct book, along with a bucket-load of rules to follow. 

Said Guardian Angel was reading a rather interesting section on dreams. 

__

Dream Gazing

The only time a Guardian Angel may have physical contact with their mortal is when they are asleep. Access to dreams is simple, just touch the sleeper's forehead, and close your eyes. You should be able to easily channel your presence into their dream. It is usually safe enough to reveal yourself - most mortals don't take their dreams seriously. 

Harry grinned, and snapped the book shut. He definitely had to try this tonight. Besides, he was dead. Malfoy couldn't do anything to him if he found out.

Draco Malfoy usually went to bed anywhere from eleven at night to two in the morning. 

The blonde heir stretched, looking up from his book. He was in his room, curled up in the cushion covered window seat that looked out onto the garden and the grounds beyond. It was dark, though, and only the stars gave off a dim light. 

Grabbing a blanket, he decided he was too lazy to move to his bed. Pulling the cover over him, he folded down the corner of the page he was on, and laid his head down on the nearest pillow. 

Harry walked across the room, and pressed his hand against the pale skin on Malfoy's forehead. 

"Sweet dreams, Malfoy." Harry smirked, and closed his eyes.

****

Draco was simple in a pure white room, or space, he couldn't tell. He walked around, but couldn't find any sign of life or movement other than himself.

"Nice place you've got here, Malfoy." The boy spun around, and looked at the figure who had just appeared.

It was Harry Potter alright, but lacking his usual thick glasses. When Harry turned around on the spot to survey the area, what was even more bizarre were the wings that came from his shoulder blades.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" He asked bluntly. Harry laughed, and nodded. It didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Yeah. What? Don't miss me? Besides, this is just a dream, right?" Draco shrugged. How was he supposed to know?

"You have awfully boring dreams, Malfoy." 

"Sorry." He sneered. Potter just grinned. 

"That's alright. Anyway, next time you have one of those really embarrassing dreams, call me. Or the ones where you think you're about to die. I best be going. Ciao."

Potter promptly faded out of the white space, leaving a rather disturbed Draco Malfoy. However, he comforted himself.

It was just a dream.

Draco Malfoy woke up slowly. His eyelashes would flutter, maybe he would close his eyes again, before he fully woke up. He would sit up, run a had through his hair, and rub his eyes. 

His hair was always fun to see in the morning, because during the tossing and turning of Malfoy's sleep, it would loose it's gelled effect, and hang messily over his eyes. 

"Morning sunshine!" Harry chirped. 

"Shut up-" Draco Malfoy froze, and looked around the room. 

No one. 

If he was hearing voices, why, of all people, did they have to sound like Potter?

Harry moved his face close into Draco's, and waved a hand in front of it. Malfoy simply stared passed him, before a confused look settled on his face. Obviously trying to reason it off to him still in a dream-like state for a few seconds, he rummaged around in his dresser for some clothes, and walked off to go take a shower. 

Harry almost screamed when he saw a tall figure looming over him. However, it was only Dumbledore. 

"Oh, good God…" Harry's heart was racing, and he was attempting to catch his breath. Dumbledore chuckled.

"No need to be so jumpy, Harry. Anyway, I thought I might as well come to explain what just happened." 

"Yeah - I've tried talking to him, but he's never heard me before." Harry argued, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong. 

"Mr. Malfoy can only hear you when he has you on his mind. He can't see you, so in most cases, he'll probably think he's going insane." 

Harry shrugged. "I can deal with that." He turned to look out the window. 

When he looked back, Dumbledore was gone. 

Draco stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

He could of sworn he heard a low whistle. However, he was, typically, alone. 

Stepping in front of the mirror, his mind was racing a mile a minute.

Why did he heard Potter's voice, above all things? Why just after that ridiculous dream?

He grabbed a bottle of gel, and squirted some into his hand.

"Jesus, Malfoy. One day all of that gel is going to burn a hole through your skull, and then sink into your brain and poison it." 

Draco stared straight into the mirror, where he had a full view of the bathroom. 

"Not that I would mind, of course. But I'm sure the hair products market would crash." 

The voice was coming from right behind him.

Whirling around, he didn't know he was face-to-face with Harry Potter. He just saw the wall at the other side of the room. 

Harry leaned in very close, and stuck out his tongue. Realizing he was acting slightly immature, he continued to watch the now frustrated Malfoy with great amusement.

Draco gave an exasperated sigh, and turned on the tap. Washing all of the gel off his hands, he leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror through long, messy blonde locks.

Harry leaned in again, so his head was hovering just over Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy's angular face was tired and as white as a sheet. The dark circles under his dull blue eyes weren't very becoming either.

"Now there's a face only a mother could love." Harry remarked. Malfoy froze again, and Harry laughed. He abruptly stopped when Malfoy's head snapped to the side, as if trying to see the unseen, trying to force him to appear. Harry realized he was uncomfortably close to the other boy, and backed away. 

"Sorry, love. I must be going." Harry spoke in his 'Mrs. Weasley voice', as he called it. He stepped through the door, smiling to himself. He hoped he'd shook Malfoy up quite a bit.

Back in the bathroom, Malfoy splashed cold water on his face, and stared back at his reflection (which, thankfully, wasn't magical), once again leaning on the sink. 

He was going insane. 

-----------------------------

End of Chapter Notes: Bwahahah. I enjoy torturing Draco. Well, I guess I sort of tortured Harry too by killing him off. I'm sure he doesn't mind though. 

Things to keep in mind and/or look forward to until I get the next chapter up are:

-Harry's dead. (Wow, really?) And he has pretty wings. He's going to stay dead because I say so.

-Will Harry ever actually give a damn that he's dead? He seems undisturbed by the fact that he doesn't know how or why he died. What will his reaction be when he sees Hogwarts - along with the people he knows? 

-Voldemort is still alive and well as he'll ever be. (Yay! Go Voldie, go Voldie…)

-Someone murdered our Harry-kins. WHO? (Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets by pressing on the keypad in front of you. No bets under $100 in any currency will be accepted. *is dragged away for illegal gambling*) 

-There will be more excerpts from everyone's favorite Guardian Angel guide book. 

-Draco will soon be carted off to the loony bin. (Well, not really. But it could happen. He's been hearing voices, you know.) This means he will be having a conversation with an invisible Harry.

-I love Snape. (…Wait. That came out wrong. I meant to say that we'll be seeing some of Sevvy-kins.)

Until next time, stay healthy and listen to the voices. It may just be your Guardian Angel, ne?


	2. False Reunion

AN/Warnings: I just realized this story would make a near-perfect songfic for Clay Aiken's 'Invisible', and I had it stuck in my head all day. The world is coming to an end. Help me. 

__

"If I was invisible, I could just watch you in your room. If I was invincible, I'd make you mine tonight. If hearts were unbreakable, then I could just tell you where I stand. I would be the smartest man, if I was invisible…wait, I already am."

Damn it. I must go see my doctor soon. I also realized I spelt the title wrong. I'm so good. I fixed the main title, so I'll just have to change the other part soon.

The disclaimer applies to all chapter, because I'm lazy. I've also upped the rating to PG-13, because of language. :D

I'd like to thank Sailor Grape (I love Hook, Line and Sinker. :P), Agrona Taranis, wanderingwolf and Yasmin for reviewing. It means a lot to me. :)

Fais de Beaux Rêves [Sweet Dreams] : False Reunion

It had been at least a week or two since Harry had freaked Draco Malfoy. The blonde boy seemed more tense and tired than usual. He twitched every so often, and his eyes darted around the room. 

__

"Twitchy little ferret." Came a familiar voice from a memory. 

So, one day, Harry had been innocently reading his book, when a voice cut his concentration.

"Pot…Potter?" Harry grinned at the frustrated boy, who was sitting on the couch. He took a seat next to him, and waved a hand in front of his face, just to be sure. However, the blonde still stared past him, looking for a sign of movement or magic.

"You rang?" The angel replied, and Malfoy stared almost anxiously at the empty space next to him. 

"Is this just some sick joke you and Weasley are pulling?" He scowled, and Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I wish. Hello? Wasn't it all over the news? Don't you 'effing know?" Harry pressed, but Draco just shook his head.

"Know what? Potter, stop it this instant!" The frustrated heir almost yelled. Harry stood up, his hands clenched at his sides. 

"Damn it, Malfoy! I'm fucking dead!" He screamed back. The fact finally hit the Angel, and it hit him hard. Draco's face was flushed with anger, and he shook the hair out of his eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

He was dead, and he was stuck with an imbecile who didn't believe him.

Harry almost screamed out loud, and stalked out of the room. Making his way to the kitchen, and stared at the huge stack of Daily Prophets near the servant's door that needed to be recycled or taken out or something. Reaching out to grab one, his hand slipped through.

"Damn it!" He hissed, pulling his hand back and pouting at the papers.

He didn't notice Malfoy come into the room, leaning against the doorway. Harry whirled around, and stared at the still pink-cheeked Draco Malfoy. 

"Malfoy?" He asked, his voice low but seething.

"Yes." The blonde responded simply.

"Would you mind getting me the paper from April second?" Harry asked, finally unclenching his hands.

"Why?" He shot back.

"Because I can't 'effing touch anything."

Draco simply took the top paper, and muttered a spell. The paper shimmered, and he held in front of him, while Harry studied it. 

****

GIANT CERBERUS ATTACK IN GREECE! OFFICALS ATTEMPT AT COVER-UP!

Harry stared at the paper in disbelief, checking the date, which was correct. He had died the day before, Dumbledore had said so! He was **Harry Potter**! The Boy Who Lived! The Daily Prophet made millions by just putting his name in an article!

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through is hair. Malfoy just tossed the paper back on top of the pile, and made his way towards the doorway. He stopped, one hand on the doorframe. 

"Oh, and Potter?" The blonde's head turned back to where he guessed Harry was still staring.

"What is it?" 

"Happy Birthday." The pale, angular face lost it's frustrated look, and his blue eyes softened slightly. 

A sharp pain shot up Harry's spine, and he rolled his shoulders. It quickly faded, and then was gone. 

Harry stared at the retreating figure of Draco Malfoy, and then at the newest Daily Prophet on the table. His green eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.

****

July 31st, 1998

"Come on, Draco, or you're going to miss the train." Narcissa clucked, holding out Draco's black cloak. He grudgingly clasped it on, and grabbed his one bag, and a black cat did figure eights around his legs. 

They were jut outside the station, having just Apparated (thanks to Narcissa). Harry found he was dragged along as well. 

"Come on, Echo." Draco leaned down to pick up the cat. Harry had seen it around the Mansion, but hadn't assumed it belonged to the Malfoy's. He had assumed it was a wild one or a stray. 

The cat purred as the blonde ran his knuckles down her body, from head to tail. 

However, what Harry hadn't expected was for the cat to peer directly at him over Draco's shoulder. Something of a catty smile seemed to flash across her lips, and Harry could of sworn she had winked. 

Harry did a double-take, but the cat was now trying to gnaw off Malfoy's ear. 

The train ride was highly uneventful. That nagging feeling that something was horribly wrong still tugged and nudged at Harry's mind, but otherwise, nothing bothered him. Harry simply sat on top of the train and watched the mountains, forests and plains that were soon whisked away from his vision. 

Hogwarts soon loomed in the distance, like a medieval fortress. Most of the lights were lit, and the moon faintly illuminated the scene, like a dying lamp. Harry smiled at the familiar sight, realizing it was much better witnessed in crisp cold air than the confinements of the train. 

When were about to arrive, Harry sank through the ceiling of the compartment that Draco Malfoy was situated. The blonde was asleep, his head against the window. His breath made foggy patches on the window. 

Crabbe and Goyle were still playing Exploding Snap, unusually quiet. 

Blaise Zabini sat next the blonde boy, and Pansy across with a few other Slytherin girls. In all honesty, Harry always thought that Blaise was a rather androgynous person - he had the build of a skinny teenage boy, but his longer-than-usual thin black hair and gray eyes protected by long eyelashes always made him reconsider, even if just for a second. 

"We're just about here." He announced to no one. However, he was once again surprised when Blaise looked up, and gave him a half-smile. 

"Thanks, Potter." He whispered. Harry gaped at the boy, who just smirked and tried to shove Malfoy awake. The boy just muttered something, and rested his head on Blaise's shoulder.

When Blaise had finally managed to get his blonde companion awake, people were already filing out of the train. 

Goyle grabbed his and Draco's bags, while Crabbe packed away the Snap cards and got his own bag. 

When Blaise stood up, he sighed, and Harry stared as two white wings arched up, brushing the ceiling of the train compartment. He smiled at the other angel, and waltzed off the train, poking Malfoy the entire way to make sure he didn't fall asleep. 

"My God, Malfoy! What do you want me to do, carry you?" 

"Yes please." 

"No chance. WAKE UP!"

Harry watched as the four hopped into a carriage, but realized that the Threstrals weren't just bones now - they were real horses, all with midnight coats and manes and tails of flame. When they pawed the ground, sparks shot up, and their eyes burned blood red. Black bat-like wings arched from their shoulders, and one turned his head to call at Harry. The angel reached out a hesitant hand, and rubbed his nose with is palm. The Threstral closed his eyes, and snorted, content. 

Patting the demon horse's side, Harry jumped onto the footstep of the carriage, and then onto the top. 

Watching the midnight sky as they rolled towards Hogwarts, Harry realized that he hadn't seen Hermione and Ron yet. Swinging his legs anxiously, he hoped they hadn't forgotten about him.

Blaise also worried him - he had never noticed anything peculiar about the boy before. He could always ask Dumbledore later.

He grinned at the stars, who shimmered back. He was going back to Hogwarts, but he didn't have to do any schoolwork. 

After the Sorting and singing the School song (which Harry noticed, Draco sang half-heartedly), the entire school sat down to eat. 

Harry stared up at the staff table, from the back corner of the Hall, nearest the Slytherin table. 

Dumbledore and his regal wings were plainly visible, as he chatted to Professor McGonagall on his right. He look to Dumbledore's left, where Snape was sitting, swirling the wine in his goblet. Medium-sized ashen wings rose from his back, and Harry rolled his eyes. Just how many people were already dead? He followed the line of teachers, and stared at Trelawny. 

He didn't see the forty-something woman, he saw a sad twenty-something young lady. Only one wing arched, and it was tattered and ripped. The other seemed to be missing. 

He caught the young Trelawny's eye, and hers widened. They soon misted over, and she just gave him a sad, funny smile. Harry shivered, and then studied the rest of the Hall, filled with students.

There was nothing peculiar at the Ravenclaw table, or at the Hufflepuff's. 

Harry stared at Hermione and Ron, who were both looking around nervously. They must know that something's off. Don't they?

Draco noticed this too, and it looked as though he might actually believe Harry for once. Unless this was a very elaborate prank, but Malfoy doubted that Weasley and Potter combined had the brains for such an operation. 

Then again, Gryffindors had all of the luck. 

"Harry?" Said boy spun around, to meet a smiling Hufflepuff. 

"Oh my God! Cedric?!" Harry resisted the urge to hug the boy he thought he killed. 

The boy shook his head, and laughed. 

"You can't kill me off that easily, Potter." He reached behind him to itch the vein of his left wing. 

Harry had to say that it felt as though a huge load had been lifted from his chest. He even seemed to breathe easier - the fact that Cedric was right in front of him was pure oxygen itself. 

Cedric waved, and walked back over to the Hufflepuff table, which he looked at with a painful longing. 

Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchy laughed, while talking to a red-faced first year. They were totally oblivious to the fact that their lost housemate was watching with a smile. 

The Bloody Baron hovered in the air next to him, grinning. 

"Welcome to the afterlife in the mortal realm, Mr. Potter." Harry hesitantly shook his hand, his phantom skin ice cold.

"Yeah, it's been a blast so far. I can't touch anything."

The Baron cackled, attracting the attention of one Draco Malfoy. 

Through the silvery transparent veil of the Bloody Baron, he thought, if for only a second, he saw Harry Potter. 

Blinking twice, both were gone, if they had been there in the first place. The Baron was terrorizing a group of first years, and the corner where he had been was empty. 

Harry wandered into Dumbledore's office, after slipping through the entrance. 

The old man was staring at his bookcase, before Harry coughed. He turned around, and smiled. 

"Harry! What a pleasant surprise." He chuckled, and Harry had a feeling very few things surprised Dumbledore. 

"Yeah. Um, but, Professor, why won't Malfoy believe that I'm dead? I went into a dream of his once, and he told me I was dead." Harry stopped, having confused himself. 

Dumbledore sat down at his desk, a now grave look on his face.

"And, to top it all off, not even the Daily Prophet has said anything? What's going on?!" 

Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment, before beginning to speak.

"Harry. Everyone who was in Hogsmeade or a nearby area on April 1st, 1998 had their memories of that day erased, so no one could tell the Daily Prophet about it. As for Mr. Malfoy's dream, I suppose it was just a fluke." The Headmaster rubbed his temples, and he suddenly looked very old and tired.

"Erased? WHAT? Well, where does everyone thing I am? Ron and Hermione-"

"I sent them an Owl two days after. They believe I've taken you to train as an Auror, and they'll probably never see you again."

"Oh, well, that's just great." Harry huffed.

"It was necessary, Harry. Because of how you died-"

"NO! I don't want to hear it! Just - Oh, God, I don't know." Harry stormed out of Dumbledore's office, his face red. 

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, and Fawkes came to rest on his shoulder. The phoenix cooed softly, his ebony eyes glistening. 

"Oh, don't cry, Fawkes." Dumbledore scratched the fiery bird's head. 

The phoenix's feathers suddenly dulled, and he burst into ashes, which scattered through the Headmaster's office.

---------------------------------------

End of Chapter Notes: _Sharp disaster in a fresh new coma, wasn't with it when it was over… _

Yes. Anyway, wasn't that fun? I have a very moody Harry Potter on my hands. I hadn't planned to make Blaise an angel, and Trelawny was just something that attacked my mind while I was writing this. 

Things to look forward to and/or think about until the next chapter:

-Harry knows that he's dead, and when he died, but he doesn't remember how. 

-I think I might have a little part with Voldie. He rocks. 

-Cats.

-We sneak into the Slytherin dorms. Slytherins are sexier. ;)

-SEVVIE! We love him. Maybe an explanation on why his wings are gray. 

-Explanation on Angel Ranks, or why Dumbledore, Snape and Trelawny can interact with the mortal world and Harry can't. 

-I can be your heeeeeroooo baby! Um…Draco delves further than he wanted to when he tries to figure out if Harry really is dead.

-The Revenge of Peeves - after two movies without being shown, Peeves decides to extract his revenge in this fic. I've decided to have a whole load of fun with Peeves. 

-Mm, I might skip forward to Halloween and then Christmas. Any suggestions?

****

Until next time, listen to the voices! And may slashy thoughts be with you always. 


	3. Living Corpse

AN/Warnings: Gi_mme gimme gimme a maaaaan after midnight! Take me through the darkness to the break of the day!_

A song for you. :) 

*is pelted with vegetables and told "GET ON WITH IT!"*

Hahah, that was my Monty Python moment. 

In Response to the Reviewers:

I forgot to do this in the last chapter. ;-;

I love you all! *glomps* You guys make my day. It's always great to go to my Inbox and see something from the ff.net bot. I love him too. 

Sailor Grape: Heheh, if Dracy fell in lurve with a dead Harry, would that be necrophilia? :O SCANDAL! Um…yes. I'm sad about poor Harry-kins too, but I needed an ridiculous reason for him to follow Dracy around. Killing off people is an excellent plot point. Dun worry, he'll have his revenge. It will be sweet, with a cherry on top.

Eheheh, glad you like the end-of-chapter-notes, they sort of take away all of the gloom and doom of the fic. 

I hope J.K. never gave us a description of Blaise, because I've formed an amazingly pretty boy in my mind. Teehee. We love you, Blaisey. I think he should have been looked more into in the books, along with everyone else. Most of it just Harry angsting over his family. There was an improvement with Sevvie in the 5th, though. 

Wow. That sounded amazingly anti-Harry.

Gabriella2: I checked your profile (it's a bad habit of mine. I'm like a stalker or something), and from piecing together what I could (AKA: my slightly-okay French and sucky Spanish skills, along with 2 years of not paying attention of Latin), I realized you liked Draco/Blaise (Bwhaha. I think I might like that now too. Remind me to write one some time. Would be my first contradicting pairing), anyway, I hope you like the chapter. :D

Kaaera, crazy-lil-nae-nae, Yasmin, wanderingwolf and Agrona Taranis: Thank you all so much for reviewing! It's always great to know that people like my writing. I'm surprised I haven't been flamed yet. Heh. 

Anyways, here's another chapter for the bandwagon. Hope you enjoy.

Fais de Beaux Rê ves [Sweet Dreams] : Living Corpse

Draco Malfoy collapsed onto his bed, and stared at the silver stone ceiling above him.

Blaise wandered in after, sitting down next to the blonde.

"Draco, you're never tired. What, been seeing the dead?" 

"Just hearing them."

Blaise smirked, and tilted his head. He must be Potter's, then.

"Oh, alright then. Snape's gonna be up here in five to give us our annual Slytherin pep rally. Don't be late, even if you are a prefect, he'll have your head." 

"Mm."

Blaise smiled at the now spacing-out boy still lying on his bed, and rolled his shoulders. He poked Draco's forehead, and walked out.

Draco wandered into the Common Room, where all of the first years had already gathered. Most of the second years were here now, along with a handful of people from the other years. 

Snape stood by the entrance, waiting a few more minutes for the missing Slytherins. If you weren't at the Slytherin first day meeting, you might as well come with your own gold plate for you head. 

They waited for another ten minutes, with the last people sneaking in, Snape coughed. The Common Room fell silent, and the Potions professor stepped forward, into the middle of the Slytherins who now circled him. He appraised then with raised eyebrows, counting and memorizing the faces of those who were here. Some of the sevenths half-joked that he had a photographic memory.

"Alright then, listen up, Slytherin. Once again, our Prefects are Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson."

A few rebellious sixth year boys burst into applause, with shouts of 'Yeah Malfoy!'. The blonde smirked at the cries of his classmates of now six years, but Snape resorted to glaring. Said rebellion was instantly crushed. 

"Here are the statistics on all of the other Houses. With Hufflepuff still all teary eyed about Diggory," Groans and retching noises followed. Most of the mentioned House still got sappy when he was mentioned. "They'll be too miserable to be any competition. Ravenclaw aren't aggressive enough to be of any concern. As for Gryffindor, since our hero Potter is de-" Snape's eyes dark chocolate eyes flickered towards the blonde. "Deported, we might as well engrave our names onto House Cup."

Cheers, whistles and roars for total domination of Hogwarts once more coursed through their green and silver veins, and was raised up in their almost victorious voices. They could smell victory like a snake could smell fear. 

Snape nodded, mock-bowed, and left the Common Room. 

Blaise, who stood next to Draco, slung his arm around the boy's shoulders, grinning. 

"It'll be sweet, won't it, Draco? To have that House Cup back inside Slytherin walls? Damn, it's been collecting dust in the Gryffindor Common Room for five years now." The dark-haired boy nodded towards the display case, which was currently filled with last year's Slytherin achievements. The large space that had once occupied the huge trophy that was the House Cup was empty, dust bunnies had made it their home instead.

Draco's lips twitched into a smile, and he nodded. 

"Yeah. It'll be great." 

Harry was still sitting in Malfoy's room. Or rather, the one he shared with Blaise (the thought of him was still bugging him), Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Damn, I don't remember where I put that 'effing book." He thought aloud. 

He found the now familiar leather cover of the book against his palm moments later. To his surprise, there was a bookmark in it, that lead to a interesting section he must have skipped.

__

Angel Ranks 

Angels can be classified, very simply, into three categories:

****

Seraphim: The lowest Angel class. Angels-In-Training, newly appointed Guardian Angels, etc. All Angels start out as this class, with the smallest wings. Limited power, cannot interact with anything that has direct effect on the Waking World at any time. For these Angels, limited Dream Gazing and interaction with their mortal. 

****

Virtues: Second-highest Angel class. Medium-sized wings, as well as a more regal appearance. The majority of all existing Angels are this class. They can appear to the Waking World for, at the lowest level, an hour to the longest, a day. For any time length, energy must be conserved before and after. They are allowed to enter any Dreamer's World. Some interaction with objects, etc. that directly affects the Waking World is allowed.

****

Archangels: The highest of all Angels, they have a semi-permanent place in the Waking World. They may choose to abandon the Waking World and be demoted to Seraphim. Their wingspan is often quite spectacular, and they are often granted great magical ability. Many Arch-Angels have the gift of premonition, some stronger than others. They serve as guides in the Waking World, and do not need to drain power to be visible to mortals. Unlimited access to mortal's minds (Waking or Dreaming), but they will be punished if their power is abused. 

Sub-Classes

All Angels are, at the simplest, classified into three, but there are some sub-classes within these.

****

Cupids: These Angels are the ones who inflict emotion onto all mortals and immortals. Contrary to popular belief, they also deal with feelings other than love.

****

Angels-In-Training: These Angels are the ones who are working towards becoming Archangels. They may be of any class, except Fallen. 

****

Guardian Angels: Perhaps over-dramatized as ever-watching Guardians, these Angels are assigned a mortal to watch over. The power to be heard by their mortal is one granted only to these Angels, albeit Arch-Angels. 

****

Fallen Angels: These Angels are instantly recognizable by their out-of-the-ordinary wings. They may be a different color, broken, ripped off or tattered. They have been marked as such to show that they have defiled the word 'Angel', by abusing their power or another disobedience (turn to the **The Fallen **for more information). For serious cases, their outward appearance to the Waking World may have been changed. While Fallen Angels are eternally shamed, they maintain the main rank they had reached before they had fallen.

****

It may also be noted that while Seraphim, Virtue and Arch-Angel are widely accepted the three main classes, the entire Angel hierarchy is, as follows, from lowest to highest;

Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominion, Virtues, The Powers, Principalities, Archangels.

Harry's mind was a bit fuzzy from receiving so much information, but he blinked, and it soon sorted itself out. He snapped the book shut with one hand, just when the boy he had been shadowing for a few months walked back into the room. 

Draco looked around suspiciously, before closing the door. 

__

What in God's name is he doing? The Angel was now curious, as the blonde sat down on his bed, and looked around the room with the same look on his face. 

Quite a few thoughts ran through the post mortem Harry Potter, and they should not be recorded.

However, the outcome of such actions was soon made clear.

Much to Harry Potter's delight, and even though he was suddenly struck with an almost nauseating feeling, he watched as Draco Malfoy blushed.

Blushed, flushed, his face was 'effing strawberry pink. 

Harry burst into laughter, even though he didn't know why the blonde was blushing. 

"Shut the hell up, Potter!" He almost roared. 

"I'll stop when you tell me why you're bright pink." 

"I just realized you saw me naked that day." 

Only, Harry only laughed louder, until his sides hurt, and his vision was blurred. Grasping at his face to take off his glasses, he realized he didn't have them anymore, and rubbed his eyes. 

****

"You are a riot, Malfoy."

Halloween came as quickly as it left, but it held a few good memories.

Pansy and Blaise had somehow managed to persuade Draco to go to the Halloween Ball with them, along with Crabbe and Goyle (who were rather convincingly dressed as Ernie and Bert from that Muggle TV show, Sesame Street). The Slytherin trio went as Christine, Raoul and the Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera. Except all but one of them was cross dressing. 

Blaise had somehow used circular logic to force Pansy into letting him be Christine, which left Pansy to be Raoul, as they had already decided Draco was going to be the Phantom. 

Pansy grinned as Blaise waltzed down the stairs in an old-fashioned dress French dress he had ordered. His ebony hair was down, but the hair on the sides of his head was tied back in ribbons. When he sat down on the Common Room couch, Pansy hovered over him with her lipstick.

"Damn, this corset is killing me. I'm wearing like, five layers." The boy moaned, rolling his shoulders. Draco had noticed that ever since the second year, it had become a habit of his. 

"You're such a tart, Blaise." Pansy giggled, as Blaise batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips. 

This brought a smirk from their blonde accomplice, who was wearing a black suit with a high-collared cape, and half white mask. Pansy had even charmed the half that was covered to look grotesquely burned if anyone tried to take it off.

Pansy was in a black suit as well, but it was much tighter-fitting and complimented Blaise's crimson dress. She also had a bowtie, and a top hat and cane.

"Blaise, you look gorgeous!" Pansy admired her handiwork, and gave Blaise a mirror.

Blaise squealed in approval, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Ooh! Pansy, you're a genius! Draco, will you dance with me?" The boy, who now looked disturbingly akin to a pretty girl instead of a pretty boy, batted his eyelashes again.

Draco sighed, and shrugged, before dawning a dark smile.

"If that is what you wish, my dear Christine." 

__

Draco had fond memories of going to see The Phantom of the Opera in London. His Father actually supported such events (something about being it a good way to become more cultured), and his Mother had no qualms about it. He had simply bought tickets, and told Blaise and Pansy to meet him there. 

Blaise giggled, and awkwardly walked over to Draco, before linking arms with him. 

Draco raised his eyebrows, and Blaise shrugged.

"High heels." He lifted the bottom of his dress to reveal two scarlet ladies' shoes. 

"I can't believe I'm going to the Masquerade Dance with a transvestite." Draco thought aloud. 

"S'better than going with Pansy." 

"True."

Blaise laughed and stumbled towards the exit (dragging Draco along as well) while Pansy chased after them, threatening to give them both concussions.

The whole time, Harry watched with a funny smile on his face.

One night cold, in late November, Draco was jolted out of sleep by the sound of muffled sobbing. 

He knew the sound of Blaise's crying from the time he had gashed open his forehead while flying. Crabbe and Goyle mostly grunted and whimpered, so it couldn't have been them. 

Draco got out of bed, and walked down to the Common Room, his feet padding quietly against stone.

"Lumos." He whispered, and he was granted light. The cries got louder as he walked, and they sent shivers up his spine.

The voice sounded strangely familiar - as if from a supposedly forgotten memory. 

He was out of the Common Room, but whoever was crying was in the Dungeons, because the ones he heard were echoes. 

Draco reached an ancient, tall oak door, and ran his hand down it. It seemed to have some strange inscription on it, a message of some sort. For one reason or another, Draco could understand it.

__

Spilled blood shall grant you REDEMPTION.

If Angels bleed, do Demons cry? 

Shrugging it off as one of Hogwart's many tricks, Draco found the door unresisting, neither locked nor bolted. 

He eased it open, but the door still released a groan that echoed down the damp stone halls. Wincing, he peered inside. 

It was pitch black, except for one figure that illuminated the darkness.

A figure was on his knees on the floor, his hands clutching his head, as if he had a indescribable headache. He was bent over, and stared at the ground with unfocused eyes. 

Pure, translucent wings rose from his shoulder blades, and Draco watched in fascinated horror as blood dripped from his upper left chest. The Angel was sobbing, crying his heart out to an unseen stranger. Draco was frozen on the spot - he had never seen such a miserable, beautiful, heart wrenching thing.

But when the Angel turned his head to stare directly at Draco, the blonde forgot how to breathe. 

A tear-stained pale face, wild black hair, bruised red lips, blood on his hands, bitten nails.

Wide, fearful emerald eyes. 

****

Silver.

------------------------------------------

End of Chapter Notes: Ahah! It all makes sense now, doesn't it?

…

I have no idea what you just read means. I'm writing this totally without a structured plan (is there such a thing as improvinizational fiction?), except for a few ideas I know I have to include.

****

BIG DECISION MAKING TIME! Yes, I'd like to know which song I should insert first (I have specific scene in mind that I want to write); Happy Christmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon or Light the Fire Within, sung by Leann Rimes (It's the song she sang at the Olympics). I'll do both eventually, so don't complain or I'll send my rabid snowmen after you. 

I'd also like to thank Google for helping me out with the Angel ranks. They're actually the ones mentioned in the Bible. :X I also don't own The Phantom of the Opera, but I loved it when I went to see it.

Oh my God, I had so much fun with Blaise (I'm just a sweet transvestite!). Sorry if this is a bit too long, I got a bit out of control with the Halloween thing. It was so fun to write, though. I'll definitely get to Christmas by the next chapter. 

Things to keep in mind and/or look forward to:

-CHRISTYMAS! (It's a bit late, I know. Deal with it.)

-Maybe even Valentine's Day? Hmm…

-Lucius, Narcissa, and one whole big misunderstanding. (This'll eventually be a main plot point, but maybe not in the next chapter. Just remember - not everything is as it seems.) This may end up as a mystery…dun dun dun…who killed Harry?

-WTF? [/internet_slang_whore] No one in the U.S. know who Busted are. It screams blasphemy, people. Uh, I'm not exactly a Busted fangirl, but some of their songs are fun.

__

I took a trip to the year 3000, this song has gone multi-platinum, everybody bought our seventh album, it has outsold Michael Jackson…

-Sorry about that. 

-Harry gets a promotion, but no raise. Chaos ensues. 

-Draco just might believe Harry really is dead when…wait, I don't know either. But Draco will definitely start to realize that The Boy-Who-Lived-Until-That-Crazy-Fangirl-Killed-Him-Off is deceased. Dead. Pushing up daisies. Has bought the farm. Cashed in his chips. Has kicked the can. Es mort. Etc, etc, etc

-I swear, this time - Cats. 

-Grabbed by the Ghoulies! Rare, come back…all is forgiven! Um…I'm a Nintendo fangirl. Anyways, a few things concerning ghosts. 

****

I've got to go now, I'm meeting my friends for a movie-fest. Stay healthy and all of that good-will stuff. Don't trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain!


	4. Ink and Blood

AN/Warnings: Nee…*twitches violently*

So much doujinshi…must buy…neeeed it. Ebay is mocking me.

I have Maroon 5's Harder to Breathe stuck in my head.

As I was saying, this chapter might clear a few things up. This means I'll probably ramble on some more and make this even more confusing because when I answer one question, I ask another five, or something. I think Snape will have a part in this. Yay!

In Response to the Reviewers: 

Bwahahah! I seem to have confounded everyone. Excellent. *strokes villainous mustache* Don't worry, you're supposed to be confused. Hell, even I'm confused. Damn this story that has no structure. DAMN IT!

…Ahem. I need to get rid of this moustache. 

Because I'm a lazy *beep* who doesn't want to reply to reviews, suck it up and deal with it. (Damn censors) I'll do it next chapter, I swear.

Hahah. Enjoy.

Fais de Beaux Rê ves [Sweet Dreams] - Ink and Blood

__

Draco Malfoy stared at the figure in front of him for about another two seconds. 

Hoping he was dreaming, he grabbed the ring near the top of door, and closed it quietly.

****

He didn't want to remember this.

When he turned around, he didn't see the stone wall across the hall, but black. 

The black ruffled, and Draco looked up. 

Serverus stood there, his deep, dark brown eyes turning maroon with rage. 

"What did you see?!" He hissed, grabbing the blonde boy's pajama collar and bringing his face down to the Slytherin student's level. 

Draco had never been so petrified in his entire life. He had a very bad, gut-wrenching feeling that whoever, whatever, he saw in there was something no one was supposed to see. 

"I-I-" He struggled for words, an excuse, and Snape exhaled sharply.

"Did you see him? Potter?" The professor needed no verbal answer, the widening of clear blue eyes, the color that drained away from the boy's cheeks, the stammering and silent movement of lips was a resounding 'yes'. 

"Damn it!" Snape was having a hard time keeping his voice low, and Draco was shaking violently. He was gasping for breath, and he still had no idea what he had done wrong. "Come with me." The man grabbed the boy's wrist, and sharply dragged him up to Dumbledore's office. 

When they reached the statue that guarded the entrance, Snape muttered;

"Angel cake." 

"Albus, Draco found the Door." Snape's breathing matched Draco's, ragged and gasping.

Dumbledore took off his glasses, and leant back in his chair. The old man's face was pained, and when he took a deep breath to regain some control, he winced. 

"Draco, please. Tell us what you saw." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but it bordered on pleading. 

Draco looked up, his face still white and still trembling. 

"I-It was a boy, he looked like Potter. But, but, he had a wound or something here," He clutched his left chest, just below his shoulder. "Ah - and it was bleeding. He had these wings, too. Coming from his shoulders. But they were transparent."

Snape looked at Dumbledore, who sighed. 

"I suppose we'll have to tell him, then."

"Albus! If he tells, we'll all be-"

"Yes, I know.. But he is Harry's. "

"But look what happened to-"

"We will not be speaking of him right now. Do not lecture me on my own faults, Serverus." Dumbledore stood up, his hands flat on his desk. 

Snape exhaled sharply, and pouted. It would have been very amusing if Draco wasn't still scared out of his mind. 

"Mr. Malfoy. What you saw is what is left of one Harry Potter's mortal life. Although he is currently…" Dumbledore waved his hand in the air for effect. "Dead, I believe is the word. He is currently an Angel-"

"What? Like the ones in that Muggle book?" Draco blurted out. Dumbledore shrugged.

"To some extent. Upon his death, he had been fated to become a Guardian Angel." Snape rolled his eyes, and some sparkle came back to the old man's eyes. 

Something akin to realization dawned onto the blonde, and he laughed.

"Ahahahah. Very funny. Potter's my 'effing Guardian Angel? That's funny." Nervous laughter shook his body, but the laughter didn't make him smile.

"I'm being deadly serious, Mr. Malfoy. Maybe even fatally," Dumbledore sat back down again, and scratched the back of his neck.

Draco's laughter stopped, and he rolled his eyes to stare at the old man. 

"What you saw in that room is what is left of Harry Potter's life force. I'm quite surprised that you saw it in a manifested form. But I suppose these things happen."

Draco stared. This lead to more staring, which lead to him being totally confused out of his mind. 

"I have no idea what's going on." He stated simply, and Snape snorted. Dumbledore smiled, and leant back in his chair again. 

"While Harry Potter is officially dead-"

"But the Wease - Weasley said he had gone off on some Auror thing or something." 

__

"Hah! How's the Gryffindor **duo**? Lost without your Pothead?"

"Shove it, Malfoy."

"Please, Malfoy. Just leave us alone."

Granger had always been smart for a Mudblood. When she glared at him, and wrapped an arm around Ron, whispering some comforting words, Malfoy suddenly almost felt ashamed. 

He then quickly shrugged this off and tripped a first year Hufflepuff, then smirking and stalking off to Charms.

"-means that although Harry is dead, in the most simple sense, he has minimal life energy. Therefore, until all of it is gone, it is theoretically possible to bring Harry Potter back to life. That is the meaning of the Door you found. It's actually a conservation of sorts."

"Are you going to?" Snape interjected, and Dumbledore shook his head. 

"No. Such things were meant to be."

"Albus, you're contradicting yourself. Potter was sent to Limbo. Only those who die by cheating Fate are sent to Limbo."

"Every single mortal life has a final destination, Serverus. It just depends what road we each take to get there."

Snape fell silent, and both looked at Draco Malfoy.

The blonde boy was staring at the floor, his lips slightly parted and his blue eyes clouded with thought. Blonde hair fell over his eyes, and he was rocking back and forth slowly.

Snape elbowed the boy gently, and he looked up, the clouds clearing. 

"So…what about…Him?" Snape chuckled at this comment, and Draco stared at him, as if the Potions Master was delirious. 

"My _Lord_," He spat, maroon eyes narrowing, "Is in no condition to wage war. Although he has strong allies, he will not launch any threatening attack on the Wizarding World until he can lead them himself."

"What about…my Father?"

Dumbledore and Snape shot each other looks that made Draco feel excluded. Dumbledore's was sympathetic, but Snape's was insistent. 

Something was going on.

"Malfoy…" A low voice hissed. "Do you have it?" A slim, bony white hand beckoned, and a black robed figured bowed stiffly. 

"Of course, my Lord." Malfoy produced a vial, with a crimson substance slipping inside. It's silver stopper had two wings arching from the base, an arrow through both of them.

"Excellent. Your services will be rewarded."

The Death Eater bowed more deeply this time, blonde hair showing and a glint of eyes that changed from hazel to blue. 

Placing the vial in the disfigured hand, Malfoy was about to slip back into the small circle of those who remained, but was stopped when the hand grabbed the robe the Death Eater was covered in.

The Lord smiled grimly, and pressed his hand against Malfoy's neck. Shocked blue eyes flickered to hazel as a hissing noise and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. 

When the Lord released his grip, he had two other Death Eaters lead a stunned Malfoy back to the Lord's closest allies, his Inner Circle. 

"Pettigrew. Prepare my potion." A small, timid-looking man nodded quickly, and scurried off. 

Rising from the dark corner of the room, a man with blood-red eyes and an ashen face grinned sadistically at his followers. Black hair had grown back, it was now long and messy. His face had lost some of it's age, but the blood lust was as strong as ever. 

"They cannot hide forever, my dears. Those fools will pay." He clenched the hand that held the vial, bringing it up to his face for all of them to see. The glass seemed to merge with the pale flesh, and it looked as though he had suspended blood in mid-air. 

The Lord licked his dry lips, and tasted flesh and blood. 

"How many times can you fool Death?" He wondered aloud, laughing to himself. This laugh was slow and exact, tuned after years of seeking revenge.

And revenge he would have. 

At midnight the next night, Dumbledore was working by candlelight in his office. A storm raged on outside, lightning slashing through the air, followed by the war drum of it's partner, thunder. 

A smaller, child-stage version of Fawkes cooed from his perch, tears slipping from dark, wide eyes.

The old man turned around, and smiled sadly.

"There is no need for tears, Fawkes. You cannot heal such things."

The door to Dumbledore's office slammed, and Dumbledore's gaze lifted to a rain soaked Lucius Malfoy, blonde hair plastered to his head. His gray and blue eyes were wide and dilated, and he leaned against the stone wall, shaking violently.

Serverus Snape came in seconds later, obviously having heard the door on his patrol of the school halls. 

"Damn it, Lucius! You're going to wake the entire school!" He hissed, but refrained from any other outburst. 

The Malfoy choked on unshed tears, and his eyes rolled back. Snape grudgingly caught the fainting Lucius, and stared at the Dark Mark that swirled up his neck, as his head fell limp.

It was freshly cut, with blood seeping and mixing with black ink and rainwater. It was visibly burning, and Snape pressed his hand against it to stop the bleeding. 

Fawkes flew over to perch on Serverus' shoulder, and looked at the Potions Master, before nudging his hand away with his beak. 

When Snape reluctantly did so, the phoenix leant his head on the man's neck, and tears slipped from his eyes.

Seconds later, when the phoenix flew away, the now clean tattoo grinned at them all with its triumphant, dead skull eyes. 

--------------------------------

End of Chapter Notes: Oh my God, I gave so much away in this chapter. There's actually something really obvious if you look for it. This was a Harry-less chapter. I beg for forgiveness. I also put some of the Draco Malfoy that we all know from the canon in there.

And so we descend deeper into my made-up-on-the-spot plot. Doesn't it make you all happy and so confused? 

I'm supposed to be doing homework. I'm going to die if anyone finds out. 

I'm writing these in a rush, sorry I don't have time for a Things-To-Look-Forward-To. Everything I said I'd do in this chapter last chapter will be done in the next chapter.

…That was confusing. 

Ciao!


	5. Something Like Fear

AN/Warnings: I'm going to get the responses done first, so I don't forget.

In Response to the Reviewers: 

Kaaera: *huggles back* First of all, thanks so much for reviewing! The hints I put in and then yelled about were just me being over dramatic. If I work things out right, you'll be able to go back through the story and go "OH. I see. Unsolvable Riddle wasn't on drugs (well, usually), she sort of knew what she was babbling about."

It's the beauty of my demented mind. It's all clicking up here in this gray matter of mine, I just have to make sure it all works out in the end.

Gabriella: Thank you so much for e-mailing me, you 'inspired' me to get off me lazy arse and type. Heheheh, Lucius and Voldie. Though, he is a bit old for Malfoy, isn't he? :D I'm glad you like this, I always feel all happy and warm and stuff when I get positive reviews. 

Sailor Grape: Don't worry, I'm blonde too. My English teacher made fun of me. Heh, don't worry, you're not supposed to get everything yet, but sort of piece it together bit by bit, if I do it right. Most likely, I'll make this one huge plot hole and it will suck us all into oblivion. 

Yes, Harry-kins can be brought back to life! It was my dramatic insert of another lame attempt at a sub-plot. 

Heh, this story just sort of started as a thought of 'what if Harry had to follow Draco around all day?', and I let my imagination run away with it and it turned into this. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but obviously that plan backfired.

Dream27: Merci beaucoup for reviewing! Ehehe, don't make me all embarrassed, I've read way better fanfics that mine. *^__^*

blackunicorn: Thanks a bunch for reviewing! :)

Now, back to the space that I get to ramble.

I'm **SO** very sorry for making the few people who read this wait. I'm a horrible person. 

Harry Potter fan fiction is evil to write. Almost every character's name wants to be spell checked into the strangest words. Gah, I hate trying to edit my fanfics and five million red underlined words come up, and they're all 'Hermione', 'Draco' and 'Malfoy'. 

Also, I just noticed that the usually large gaps I use to take up space and make it seem like I wrote more don't appear on FF.net. I'll try to fix this if I'm ever motivated enough to, this chapter should be easier to read.

Watch as I develop characters slowly but surely. We can't have Draco and Harry wanting to jump each other yet. Besides, I don't think Harry could. X3 

Short AN today, ne? Anyways, I hope you enjoy another chapter of insanity.

Fais de Beaux Rê ves [Sweet Dreams] : Something Like Fear

Harry forgot to mention Thanksgiving Day, didn't he? Some of the American transfer students charmed a few real turkeys to have a few 'completely random and not selective at all' heads of some staff members and students. Harry found the Snape one so hilarious, he was crying as it attacked Ron across the Hall. 

Malfoy was rather annoyed when one with his own face came up and started preening at his human reflection. 

"Oh, dear God, this is killing me." Harry clutched at his sides, breathless and pink-cheeked. He realized the irony of his sentence, but couldn't stop laughing.

"Shut the hell up." Malfoy hissed under his breath, before charming the turkey to have a normal head. 

Harry covered his mouth with his hand, to muffle his laughter. This hand quickly fell to his chest, as he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. 

Only a dull, throbbing pain. Perhaps he hadn't been getting enough sleep or something. Heartburn, maybe. Not that he ate much.

Draco didn't say anything, but noticed Potter's sudden silence. 

---

It was nighttime once again in the boy's side of the Slytherin dorms. Harry sat on the windowsill, so he could have a clear view of what lay beyond Hogwarts. 

For one reason or another, he couldn't bring himself to visit the Gryffindor dorms. Seeing Ron, Hermione, Dean, Neville, Ginny…

Crabbe and Goyle were snoring, and Blaise was fast asleep. Those three slept like rocks. Malfoy was supposed to be asleep as well, but Harry was interrupted from his 'very deep thoughts' by the blonde's cold voice.

"Potter, what's it feel like to be dead?" Harry didn't turn to face the blonde, and smiled rather oddly as he looked outside.

"Mostly like being alive. Except it's a bit colder, and…" He put his hand over his heart, or where it was supposed to be. "And I don't have a heartbeat." It had been slightly unnerving the first time it had happened - he had almost forgotten he was dead. 

Dead…but how? Why?

His parted lips asked these silent questions, but, as it had been for most of his life, no answers were given to him. 

"Oh, right." Came Malfoy's short reply.

There was silence. Now, Draco Malfoy was used to silence, but this silence wasn't the kind that he knew.

It was a hovering silence, and expecting silence. It was poking him in the side, thumping in his head. 

"Does it hurt?" The words tumbled out before he could catch them in his throat.

"Of course not-"

"No. Your shoulder." He smirked when Potter's breath caught in his invisible throat. 

"Um, sometimes. If I think about being dead - ow." He closed his eyes and breathed, as the 'knife' that was stuck in his chest twisted left and right. "But, how do you know?"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Git."

"I'll take that as a compliment and move on." 

There was more of that damnably annoying silence, and Malfoy coughed. 

"Night Potter."

"Hm."

When Draco looked over to where he thought Potter might be sitting, he was surprised to see a black silhouette of the boy, and faint, transparent white wings that seemed much more graceful than that one time in his dream. 

Eugh. He had dreamed about Potter, hadn't he?

Saying nothing of Potter's sudden visiblity, he turned over and stuck out his tongue in disgust.

Harry leaned his head against the stone wall that kept him enclosed in the windowsill, and felt his eyelids start to flutter, begging to be closed. 

He did so unwillingly, and black lashes ate emerald eyes. 

---

He saw Potter. Fleetingly (that sounded like something from a sappy romance novel), but there all the same. Usually when moonlight was on where he should be. Never during the day. It was like he was only reflecting life - much like the moon only reflected the Sun's light. 

Ugh, if he didn't watch his blonde self, he'd end up with the Hufflepuffs composing depressing poetry about Cedric Diggory. 

Smirking to himself, Draco Malfoy climbed up the stairs to his Arithmancy class. 

---

Christmas came and Christmas went, much like it always did for Draco Malfoy. He got a good amount of money from both of his parents, but he didn't really have anything to spend it on, especially since the students staying for Christmas break weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade this year.

Christmas came and Christmas went, much unlike it used to for Harry Potter. He had to blink that stinging sensation from his eyes when he saw the Weasley's owl bring four sweaters. After meeting Hermione last summer, Mrs. Weasley had told the Gryffindor girl that she would send her a sweater as well.

But there was only Ron, Ginny and Hermione. 

He couldn't look at the unbearable expression that was a mix of total loss and disappointment on Ron's face, and it was evidently being absorbed by Hermione as well. She put her hand on Ron's shoulder, and said words that Harry couldn't hear from the Slytherin table. Ron gave her a half-hearted smile, and nodded. 

They were disappointed. In him. Because he left them without a second thought.

But that wasn't his fault. It wasn't. He hadn't been planning to die that day.

Yet that yellow 'H' on a red sweater told him differently, as did the knife in his chest. 

---

January was a bore, it was only classes and work for Draco, and following the blonde boy around for Harry, which proved much more dull than he had originally expected.

Malfoy had always just been around when used to walk these halls. He seemed to appear from nowhere, with bored, cold blue eyes and that obnoxious, infuriating smirk. 

Malfoy made Hogwarts a little less day-to-day, a little less predictable. Ron's insults always drew smiles from the charcoal haired boy, and Hermione's urge to stop while he was ahead, to not get into fights made her sound motherly, something Harry hadn't ever heard. However, her occasional outbursts, especially at Malfoy, were all the more humorous. She turned into the teenage girl she was supposed to be, not the university student whose main concern was what grade she was going to get. The one time she had gotten an A- had nearly killed her.

Professor Binns had proven to be a bit more interesting now that he had another dead person besides the Hogwarts ghosts and Peeves to talk to. 

Harry had figured out that ghosts and poltergeists seemed to be able to see him as well, obviously because they were dead as well. The Bloody Baron was rather disturbing, if not funny in his own way. Nick still had the air of a sad clown, who doesn't mean to be amusing but is anyway.

---

Harry didn't notice as the crisp January days slipped into bitter February. When he awoke once again in Malfoy's room, he was surprised to find the room void of it's usual inhabitant. 

"Nah?" Harry mumbled, rubbing his eyes and yawning. 

Draco appeared soon afterwards, and Harry was surprised to find his intense blue eyes focused directly on him.

"Oh, Potter. I've been excused from school for the month. Something about family matters. I'll be downstairs." Malfoy's head nodded slightly, as he turned around and walked out of his room. 

It was February already? That meant that Malfoy's little family secret would be proving itself this month. He'd almost forgot.

…That sounded rather wrong. Harry shrugged, and sat down on Malfoy's bed.

Echo, Malfoy's cat, wandered into the room, and meowed when she saw Harry. She walked over, before sitting on Harry's lap. He rubbed her head with his knuckles, almost unaware that he was doing so. When he did realize, he simply stared down at the cat, who looked up at him with intelligent eyes, both a sharp green. 

"This is all very confusing." The Angel declared, and Echo's only response was to tilt her head slightly. Her purr was almost comforting, but she soon became bored of Harry and jumped off the bed to exit the room.

Deciding to follow suit, Harry wandered downstairs to see what was going on.

He was once again surprised when Narcissa's sharp gray eyes focused on him. They almost instantly unfocused so that she was staring past him. Harry guessed she was just lucky, and shrugged it off. 

The exact same thing happened when Lucius walked into the room, his eyes grazing over the **exact **place Harry was standing. 

Harry's eyes were sharp as well, and he noticed as Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in the silence. He never once snuck a look at Harry, and for some reason, he was grateful. 

---------------------------

End of Chapter Notes: My main focus in this chapter was to make all of the characters seem slightly more canon. I think Draco became too bratty again in OotP, and I usually tend to avoid writing him as such. I thought for a little while because I thought J.K. might kill off Draco (that probably would have been the most unexpected character to kill off, since she doesn't have a record of killing the characters that need to be killed), but then again I would have had fun writing angst about it. 

Agh, I'm all paranoid about staying in character now. Just tell me that they're a teensy bit like their canon counterparts and I'll love you forever. 

Things to look forward to and/or keep in mind:

- Ah, I really like that sweater idea. Maybe I'll make a stand-alone but somehow connected to this one-shot on that concept. If I wasn't so lazy, that is. 

-I have Green Day's cover of 'I Fought the Law' stuck in my head. Mm, guess what? Valentine's Day next chapter. If I hadn't been so lazy, I could of gotten this to coincide with the actual day. But these things happen, no? Hopefully, some things will come together next chapter. 

- Hahah. Geddit? Echo, Narcissa? Oh, I slay myself. But since cats are usually the first animal connected with witchcraft, I thought it might make sense for them to be able to see the dead. I like Echo now. The only OC I end up creating is a cat. Wow, I'm so talented. 

Until next time, peoples. 


End file.
